


Caught In A Web Of Lives

by milliej_child_of_hades



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2020-10-01 16:31:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20336758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milliej_child_of_hades/pseuds/milliej_child_of_hades
Summary: Peter Parker's been quite good at hiding his secret identity, but one thing will always give clues as to who the wall-crawling superhero is. The internet. He bumps heads with an unexpected someone who's trying to uncover the mystery of who Spider-man is, as well as try to piece her family back together.





	1. Binders and Bookbags

Humans suck, and I should know. I am one- well, sorta. I like to imagine that when the gods were mixing their pot of humanity, they accidentally slipped and a tonne of selfishness and douchebaggery poured in. But then again, what does an almost 16-year-old know?   
"Kennedy, get ready. You'll be late for the bus." Of course Mum had decided that photo day was the best day for me to go on the bus.   
"Hang on! Hair doesn't just straighten itself!" She leaned against the doorway of the bathroom, sticking her tongue out at my complaint.  
"I always thought that you looked better with your natural curls, and you could try getting up earlier." Oh, mother. See, my Mum and I love each other, we tell each other everything. Except she thinks that I actually sleep. I don't, I physically can't. I stayed up last night to make more progress on my board. I was getting close to figuring it out, I knew it.   
"Thanks, but do you not remember last year? I literally looked like I had a crow's nest on my head. And I promised I would try to bring about a different look, remember?" Mum nodded, as I finished spritzing it with hairspray and turning off the straightener.  
"Ok, honey. But seriously, I have to get to work. And I can hear your bus outside."  
"Crap." I raced to my room, grabbing my binders and laptop, shoving them into my bag. Hurrying outside, I practically sprinted to the bus. The damn bus decided to pull away at the last second too, leaving me to walk the twelve blocks to school.

"Come on, Ken. You can do this. Besides, you've walked it before." I have many strange habits, talking to myself, talking when I'm nervous or it's too quiet, and not talking at all on the opposite end of the spectrum. I dug my earphones out of my pocket and started to listen to my music. I could already tell though. This was going to be the worst photo day ever.

"You seem more frazzled than ever, what happened? Ooh, don't tell me, I wanna guess." I jiggled my locker door open and swapped my lunch for textbooks. Camilla leaned against the locker, oblivious to the fact that it was photo day. "Did your mum go on a date? Did you finish watching the TV show, do you love it?"  
"I haven't had time-"  
"-Duh, you've been too busy with your-" My hand flew to her mouth, as I glanced around. Thank gods that no one really paid any attention to me.  
"-Not another word." I slowly removed my hand. Camilla sighed.  
"Fine, I give up. Why are you being such a sourpuss?"  
"Because I had to walk." I slammed the locker shut as we walked to our social studies class. As we strode down the hallway, a boy was shuttling towards us. And he crashed into me. If he'd been going any quicker, we would've surely banged our heads. I dropped my books as I fell.  
"Sorry, that's my fault."  
"Yeah, it really is. You shouldn't be running." We both knelt down to retrieve our own books, he just happened to be faster. He picked up mine and handed them back to me. I think I recognized him from physics class, but I couldn't be sure.  
"Haha, yeah. Sorry about that again," He chuckled as his cheeks flushed red. He quickly started to walk down the hall again. Camilla looked over at me with a confused look.  
"What just happened?"  
"I don't know, but the bell's about to go. Class?" She nodded.

"So, you never told me about why you're being a sourpuss. Spill," Cam urged as we enter the class, with Mr. Jennings already sitting at his desk. He didn't even bother to look up from his sudoku as we entered. He had to be one of the only teachers here that didn't care about trying to teach a class. We mainly spent it talking and teaching ourselves.

"Walking sucks, twelve blocks in boots isn't something I've ever had to do in the last year."

"Walk? Why?"

"The bus left without me."  
"Damn, that sucks. Also, why are you dressed so fancy? Are you interested in someone?"  
"Cam, no. It's photo day." The look on her face was priceless. The color leached from her cheeks as she looked down at what she was wearing. I had to cover my mouth to stop from cackling. The day that she decided to wear her sweatshirt and joggers. I tried to help her see the positive, "Hey, at least they only do the top half of your body."  
She pouted, "You just work on your thingy, I'm going to do some online shopping. Need to look dope for the next party... How's it going by the way? Any big leads?"  
I shook my head, rifling through my purple binder. It contained all my suspects and photo evidence. Cam pulled out her laptop and looked through several retail sites. I pulled out my laptop too, which held all my files on the matter. Cam ooh and ahhed, adding things to her cart while I checked my video and audio files. All stuff I'd been able to hoard and copy off the internet. I kept checking the clock, before returning to tapping my shoe against the bar of the stool I was seated on. I listened to the voice again, it was so familiar. I swear I could've heard it recently.   
"Time," Cam pointed out. We got up and left for the auditorium. We joined the back of the line, talking about what movie we'd watch tonight. Tuesday was always movie night at my place.   
"Nope. That's gotta be like the twelfth time that we've watched Hercules. You gotta grow up, we should watch Mulan instead."  
"We watched Mulan last week. Besides, who doesn't like the complete disaster that became the movie, Hercules-"  
"-Ken, I love you like a sister. But you don't need to list thirty-seven differences between the myths and the movie."  
"But, I like to." I pouted, sticking my bottom lip out. Cam rolled her eyes and nudged me forward in the line.  
"How about we watch something other than animation? We could watch that new movie where that dude, um, what's his name? With the hat and the temple?" She clicked as she tried to remember. I knew she was trying to play me into watching Indiana Jones with her.   
"Temple of Doom?" She nodded. "Really? Another one? How about Star Wars?"  
"Nah, you know I'm too pretty to watch them."  
"Speaking of pretty, do I look okay? I want this photo to be good this year, for Mum. For Jens and Dad." My last sentence hit a low note and felt like a punch in the gut. My sister had run out on us early this school year, only left me a note. Jensen wasn't missing, and I knew it; I wanted her to come home, but at the same time I didn't. And I still wanted to try and be around my dad, even if he didn't want me to. I figured that a picture would at least build a path in that direction.  
"You look fine, and you're next by the looks of it."  
Sure enough, the photographer called my name and I walked over and sat down, smiled and promptly got up and waited for Cam.

"I heard you talking about Star Wars, big fan?" I looked over and saw Ned Leeds. I knew that he was in a few of my classes. He was nice, I didn't know him too well though.  
"Yeah, my friend and I are fighting about what movie we want to watch. Indiana Jones or Star Wars."  
"Personally, I like Star Wars, you have heartbreak and romance, comedy, betrayal, and family. There's even the Wookies, which are like huge teddy bears." I nodded, pretending to not know anything about it. He looked pretty passionate about the topic. I heard one of the photographers call next as Cam strutted over, a smirk dancing on her face.

"What's happening? We ready to bounce?" I nodded and said goodbye to Ned as we walked back to class. I was quite pleased to see that no one had dared to disrupt my laptop or notes. Although, now that I looked at it from a different angle, something didn't look quite right. It was missing something. I looked at the clock, only a few minutes before the next class. I packed my laptop away and put papers back in folders.  
"Cam?"  
"Yup?"  
"Did you take my binder?"  
"Nope."  
"It's not here."  
"Is it important?" Cam didn't know what was in the binder, but she had a faint idea.

"Very." My blue binder was missing and it held a person's life in the balance. I thought back to this morning, maybe I should've left it behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okie Dokie. That's my first chapter. I know it may seem like it doesn't have a plot yet, but trust me. It really does. I smashed this chapter out in two hours. I'm meant to be sleeping right now but SSSSSSSHHHHH don't tell my parents.  
This is a bit of a spur of the moment idea story. Since I've recently collected the whole of the MCU, I've been going through and watching them. And I consider myself a Lil bit smart, so I try and think what would happen if I'd been a plot character. And let me tell you, it has been interesting. I also have been reading a fair amount of fan-fiction and general sleuth fiction too, so I thought let's make a story about two things I love.  
And while I know that this chapter is shortish at 1454 words, I do promise that the next chapter will involve another POV and be longer than this one.  
I will also have a front page of my own shortly, but for the meantime: ENJOY some beautiful Tom.  
Question: What do you think will happen in this story? And how are Jensen and the father related to the story?


	2. I Spy A Spider

"Hey, Peter?"  
"Hmph?"  
"Whatcha thinking about?" I looked over at Ned, my head still resting on the palms of my hands. We'd spent the first class getting our photos taken, and only once I'd packed up had I noticed the binder. Well, technically Ned noticed it. He asked if it was new, like my backpack. I didn't know what he was talking about. I mindlessly flipped through a few of the pages, hoping to find a name so I could return it. I couldn't see a name on the first couple of pages, they were just filled with small, cursive writing that I could barely read. Some of the words were emboldened, so I'd have to infer a fair bit. Hoping that there'd be a page where the writing changed, I kept flipping. The further into the binder I got, the more pictures appeared on the pages. Spiders, webs, shooters, and pellets. Each picture was colored in an array of reds and blues, with inky black writing as annotations. I shut the book before I saw anything else. I'd go and read it this afternoon, or decipher it more like.   
"Nothing. Just mad that Mr. Stark hasn't asked me on anymore retreats since-" I looked around to make sure no one else was listening "- since Liz's dad."  
"I'm sure you'll get one soon. But have you seen what's been on the news lately?"   
"Yeah, it's fake. That happened ages ago. I've been doing nightly patrols, no buildings have been destroyed."  
"And Spider-man stealing a motorcycle?"  
"I didn't, someone was trying to steal it." Ned nodded at my reasoning, still unsure about whether to believe me or not. The bell for lunch rang and we quickly made our way to exit the class. Lunch itself felt like it was going on forever, and I was just itching to decipher the binder.   
"When's our next movie night, Peter?"  
"We don't have one."  
"We really should, it'd be fun."  
"Oh, yeah. What makes you say that?"  
"I was talking to a girl about it while we were waiting for photos."  
"And what did you talk about then?"  
"Her friend and she were arguing about what movie they should watch. Indiana Jones or Star Wars."  
"Did she ask what you thought?"  
"Yeah, I gave her the whole lowdown on why Star Wars is better. But it got me thinking. We should have a movie night."  
"Maybe, Ned. We might do one next week. I just have some stuff on tonight."  
"Is it secret stuff?"  
"Pfft, no," I said, looking around at the cafeteria. 

The rest of the day seemed to stretch forever, and when it came time to leave, I still had no clue about the binder. So I went somewhere special to think. The rooves. Changing into my spider-suit in an alleyway, I donned the backpack and found a way up to the roof of a seven-story apartment building. Taking a bite of a sandwich, I opened the binder back up. The first pages were covered in notes, three different colors: blue, red, and black.  
Photo 1.1 suggests that SM is 5'5" (give or take a half-inch). The scribbles had numbers and calculations, I shuffled through the pages, hoping to find the photo that relates. I couldn't see it and didn't want to pull the book apart to find it. There were also calculations that included different graphs of wavelengths and frequency scrawled over them too. The further into the binder I got, the more the pieces came together. They were trying to figure out who Spider-man was, who I was. I looked through the other notes written, and the different pictures of spiders and webs. There was a formula for a chain polymer not unlike the one I used, the only things that were different were the way that they washed it at the end. They used something else instead of silica gel, something called WFP75. I would seriously have to ask about that, and if it did anything else to the web fluid. After going through about thirty different pages of notes and calculations, I flipped to the last page. And therein purple permanent marker, the name read Kennedy Osmund-Ciardha. Why did it sound familiar? Maybe we had a class together?  
I looked around, and couldn't hear anything that sounded wrong. I checked my phone, not surprised to see Ned's extensive list of movies that we could watch. And a text from Aunt May. Over an hour had gone by since I got up onto the roof, and it would soon be growing dark.  
I climbed through my window and quickly got changed. Hopefully, Aunt May would think that I'd just been in here studying the whole time.  
"Peter! Dinner!" I open my door and come out to help set the table and grab a plate. "How was your day?"  
"Yeah, it was good. Photo day." I say nonchalantly as I eat some stir-fry.  
"That's exciting. Did you do anything else?"  
I shook my head, but then stopped, "I ran into a girl, accidentally took one of her textbooks."  
"Did you manage to give it back at least?"  
"Couldn't find her name on it until just now. Do we have the old yearbooks? So I could see if I can recognize her so I can give it back?"  
May nodded, "We can do that after dinner."  
"Also Ned and I were thinking of having a movie night maybe later this week. If that's alright with you?"  
May nodded again, "I have a date with Nathan from work on Friday night. You could have the apartment just to you two then."  
"Thanks, Aunt May." The rest of dinner happened in almost silence. Washing the dishes and grabbing the yearbook, I headed back to my room. Skipping to the second half of the surnames, I skimmed through the O surnames. O'Shaunessy, Osier, Osinski. Aha, Osmund-Ciardha. I tapped my finger on the photo of her. It was only six names away from mine. Kennedy looked completely different. For starters, she had tight curls of dark brown, almost black hair. He eyes hid behind thick-lensed glasses. I could see the edge of a sweater that had Daleks and the sonic screwdriver from Doctor Who on it. She had a startled smile on her face like they jumped her with the 'Cheese!' Her nose was still coated with freckles. But this morning when I ran into her, she had lighter brown, almost blonde hair. And I could see that it was straight, not curled. And this morning, her glasses hadn't looked that thick, they looked like any normal pair of glasses. Huh, she must've really changed a lot in a year. Now that I recognized her, she was in my physics class. Sat at the front with her friend. Answered most of the questions, and now that I thought of it, I hadn't seen her wear a Doctor Who sweater this whole time. 

The next morning, I woke up and dashed around the apartment trying to grab breakfast. Aunt May had barely had her coffee when I sprinted to the fridge to grab my lunch.  
"Peter, it's only six. Take your time."  
I slowed down, grabbing a bowl of cereal and eating it within the span of four spoonfuls. Aunt May just sighed and shook her head.   
"I'm off to school! Have a good day."  
"Bye Peter."  
I practically ran to school, hoping to get there earlier than Kennedy so I could figure out what my story about the book would be. 'Hey, I just found this in my first classroom while I was waiting. Is it yours?' Nice going Peter, you'll definitely come off as weird. 'So why replace silica gel with WFP75?' Nope, she'll know that you've read it if you say that. 'Does someone have a crush on Spider-man?' That makes you sound like Flash, Peter.   
Luckily, my locker is only a couple yards down the corridor from hers, so I can see when she gets here. I just sit at my locker, finishing studying and trying to figure out what to say when 7:20 am rolls around. Kennedy walks through the doors. I can definitely see the changes from last year, her hair is way lighter and up in a curled ponytail. She's donned a sweater over a black and white polka-dotted dress, and she's pushed the sleeves up too. I just sit there for a good two minutes, just observing her as she walked to her locker. Putting away her lunch, she circles off a date on the calendar on the inside of the door. Come on, Peter. You can do this. You spoke to her yesterday, just do it again.

"I think this belongs to you." I tapped her on the shoulder, passing over the binder. She looked at me before looking down at it. Her eyes opened wide and her mouth made a perfect O-shape.   
"Oh my gods. Thank you, where'd you find it?"  
"I must've picked it up yesterday when we collided."  
"Thank you. It's really important to me." I smiled, she looked happy to see the book. She'd cradled it close to her burgundy sweater.  
"It's not a problem, I just have a question though."  
She nodded, "Fire away."  
"How'd you figure out the height?"  
"That was really easy." I gave her a little rolling hand gesture to explain it. "You know how you can figure out the size of a set from how many paces it takes for a cast member to cross it?"  
"Nope, usually I just enjoy the show."  
"Well, I do. but I figured out his height by cross-referencing security footage of him and using a dummy."  
"A what? How?" I was curious, if she could work all that out, that would be amazing! Spectacular even!  
"I used my friend and a car we found that matched the car in the video footage and then videoed it from the same angle as the cameras. Wasn't that hard. Why?"  
"Just curious. I may have looked through," I explained. Her eyes turned a dark stormy green-blue and her jaw tensed. I probably shouldn't have read it. "I was only trying to work out who you were."  
"So you decided to snoop? I could kill you for that." And right now, I wouldn't put it past her.   
"But you won't?" I suggested, subconsciously moving back.   
"No, because now you're a main." She replied matter-of-factly.   
"What do you mean main? Main what?"  
"Suspect. Honestly, does no one bother to pay attention?" She closed her locker, the book stowed away in her laptop bag this time. "Now excuse me, I'd like to go and learn. Bye suspect."  
With a wave goodbye, she turned and walked off to her first class.

By the time the bell had even rung for the first class, Ned and I were already seated and talking in hushed tones as the substitute wrote up the day's work outline.  
"What? Say that again. I didn't hear you."  
"I think Kennedy's trying to figure out who Spider-man is."  
"Because you read her book?" Ned looked at me skeptically, as if I was crazy.  
"Yes. She had a formula for web fluid, almost the exact same as mine..."  
"Peter? You sounded like you had something else you wanted to say after that."  
"Have you ever heard of WFP75?"  
"No, but it sounds top secret. What is it?"  
"I don't know." I shrug as I pull my laptop out and look it up. No results. I type again, adding polymer and silica to the search. Still nothing. I don't know what it is, or what it could be. I really want to go up to her and just ask. Along with all the other questions that I have about her researching. Like the photos and evidence. I open up my e-mails and see an unread one from her.  
Parker,  
I know things may have come off a bit cold, but I am very attached to the book and would have a mental breakdown if it got into the wrong hands. That meaning, any hands that aren't mine. If you would like to, we could meet up for a drink or something to eat after school as a thank you for returning it.   
Kennedy

"Ned," I tap his desk to grab his attention, "I think that I just got asked to meet up somewhere."  
"By who? Is it Liz again? Because I wouldn't say yes, Peter."  
"No, no, no. Not Liz. Kennedy."  
"Kennedy, which Kennedy? Blonde or Smart or Football Kennedy?"  
"First two I think."  
"That's two different people, Peter."  
"Osmund-Ciardha then, talked to you about Star Wars yesterday."  
"Smart and Fandom Kennedy."  
"I thought that you said that's two different people. And that Kennedy's also blonde."  
"Peter, you have so much to learn about identifying people. Now, what are you going to do about this meet-up?"  
"Ask her about what WFP75 is, and why she's interested in Spider-man."  
"You could go as him though." I tilted my head as I considered it, there would be a fair few advantages to it. Maybe I could go as Spider-man. Then again, that could give away my identity. I decided against it, sending back an email with where I thought we should go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter is done, 2233 words this time. I have prewritten a few of these chapters because I do take a little bit of time to write if I don't have much motivation. But I have been trying to write for an hour each day, so we'll see how that goes.  
Question Time: Do you want me to do questions, or have you just tell me your absurd theories about the next movies/ chapters in this story? I really don't mind.


	3. Drink Dates & Late Night Frights

"Yeah, Ned. I'm here. I'm at a table, waiting- Oh, here she is. Gotta go." I raised my hand and waved at her as she walked over. The diner wasn't busy and most of the seats were empty. "Hi, how was your day?"  
"Pretty crap, except you gave me my book back so thank you." She put her shoulder bag on the chair beside her.  
"It's not that big a problem. I may have read it though-"  
"-Yeah, I already found that out." I nodded, still feeling bad about it. "So what did you feel like having? I'm not super hungry, but could go a caramel milkshake."  
I glanced at the menu in front of both of us before deciding on a chocolate milkshake. As Kennedy went to go and order them, I hastily texted Ned, unsure of what I was even supposed to say to her.  
"You didn't write your name at the front of the book." I blurted out, it was the first thing that came to mind.  
"Not a big fan of doing what's the most predictable thing."  
"It sure made it hard to find who you were." One of the waitresses walked over and placed down our drinks.  
"So how did you find me?"  
"The yearbook."  
"Ugh, I hated that photo of me."  
"Yeah, I was going to say how different you look." She nodded, lowering her head slightly. Did I say something wrong? "Why?"  
"My family, we had a bit of a falling out."  
"Oh, I'm sorry. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."  
"No, it's fine." She took a big draw from her milkshake as she dabbed her eyes. "My brother packed up and left out of the blue. Then my dad did the same, he moved to Wisconsin. It's just my mum and me now. I had to sort of grow up and stop acting like a kid. Be more mature."  
I nodded, the same had happened with me too. After becoming Spider-man, I had to grow up a bit. Not be so immature. Home-coming had even proved that, that I had to grow up even more.  
"Okay. So how did you start trying to figure out Spider-man?" She smiled, glad that I'd changed the subject to something she seemed interested in.  
"Thanks. Um, I just find it interesting that he showed up at the Washington Monument the day our school's decathlon team went. That's where it started. I just thought it was strange how if something bad happened with our school's students, he'd somehow show up."  
I nodded my head, trying not to be too suspicious. Although, apparently I'd already failed that. Her phone buzzed from her dress pocket, and she quickly checked it. Her fascinated facial expressions faltered, and she grabbed her bag.  
"I have to go, urgent business. Sorry, it was nice talking to you though. I hope we get to chat again soon." She waved goodbye as she left, and I just smiled goofily at her for some reason. Why did I have to be so awkward? 

Therapist appointment was changed. It's from 4:15 pm. Love, Mum.  
I checked the time on my phone. I had three minutes, I could make it. Only one more block.  
"Oops, sorry," I apologized as I budged past a man in a pinstripe suit, hurrying through the open door. "I'm here!"  
"Okay, just sign in sweetheart, and then you can go on in." The receptionist smiled as she handed me the same form as the last four times. I scribbled through it, and almost chucked it at her. "Just the first door on your right."  
"Thank you for joining us, Kennedy," Robyn said as she jotted her first note of the hour. I apologized and sat down in the cold leather armchair opposite her. "Shall we begin with any important things that happened this week?"  
"I lost a book. It was really important to me."  
"And did you manage to find it?"  
"No. Someone ran into me and picked it up, they gave it back this morning actually."  
"How did you react when you got your book back?"  
"Relieved, anxious, mad." I tapped a different finger with each word.  
"Anxious and mad? Can you explain?" I nodded to Robyn's question.  
"It's my special book, that has all my research and notes for my project in it. I was mad that the boy who picked it up had read it, and I was anxious that he'd spread what I'd put in it."  
"And is this the project involving the superheroes?"  
"Superhero. Singular, not plural. Just Spider-man."  
"And why are you trying to find out who they are? Is it for a purpose?"  
I let her calm, soothing voice wash over me as I leaned back into the leather. "No, I just like to know things. Curiosity, just because I'm interested."

"How was therapy, darling?" Mum called from the kitchen as I locked the front door.  
"Good, good." Mum had been making me go to therapy monthly ever since Jensen left. It helped, sometimes. Dr. Haddsenfore, or Robyn, was apparently one of the best in all of New York. "Hey, Mum?"  
"Yes, honey."  
"I'm not that hungry. I might just go do some homework and extra credit projects." I heard her humming in response, so I headed to my room. Closing the door, I dropped my shoulder bag onto the bed, falling backward onto it. I groaned in realization that I had homework to finish. Flipping over, I grabbed out my laptop and started on answering the questions from chemistry and biology earlier today. After answering them quite easily, I checked my alarm clock. 9:58 pm. Yawning, I left my room to grab a hot chocolate. Holding the cup in both hands so that it warmed me up, I climbed out my bedroom window onto the fire escape. Looking out into the traffic was calming, the set times between the light changes; the slightly drunk people falling over as they exited the bars. The sounds of the city were loud enough that they masked my outspoken thoughts.  
"Oh Kennedy, what are we going to do? We could try and get ourselves in trouble, and then plant a tracer. Nope, that wouldn't work, I'd have to make a lightweight nano-tracer. That would take ages. Ugh. How about DNA? Scrape a bit off and try and cross-examine it with other people at school. You're right, that would take far too long, and the evidence would also be inaccurate. You can't just walk up to Spider-man and be like 'hey, can I get some of your DNA? I'm trying to figure out who you are.' That's way too creepy." I took a big gulp of my drink, the warmth spreading through me as it went down my throat.  
"Think, Ken, think. Could you just record his voice and analyze that?" I shook my head, "No, voice modulation software is a thing."  
"Then go and talk to someone about it." I set my cup gently on the windowsill, standing up to pace the fire escape. "Who? Who would I talk to? Iron Man? He'd know how to solve it, but I'm a nobody, and young. He'd have no time for me."

I was just swinging around Queens on patrol when I could hear bickering coming from near a street of bars. I swing to the apartment building opposite it, the bickering getting louder. It sounded like it was one person talking to themselves, fighting with themselves. I peered over the edge of the building, seeing a teenaged girl in an oversized purple sweatshirt pacing her fire escape. She was quite loud, and the voice was instantly recognizable.  
"No, you're absolutely right. The only viable option is a nano-tracer, I could probably use some of the-"  
"What are you tracing? Is it a villain, because I could help with that?" She looked at me, crossing her arms in annoyance. She was mad that I interrupted her conversation with herself.  
"Nothing. It's just a project."  
"Project for what? I happen to be a genius, I might know something to help-" My attempt to put my fists on my hips failed, and I instead drooped my shoulders at her intercession.  
"No, it's just for fun. I don't need help."  
"Okay, is it tech stuff? I heard Mr. Stark's name." She perked up at my nonchalant acknowledgment of him. Surely, she knew that I knew him. "He could help you."  
"No way. He wouldn't help me."  
"Why not?"  
"Because... I'm, well, I'm me."  
"You could ask him at a Stark Internship. My buddy Peter has one of them."  
"Peter? Parker? He and I are in a few classes together."  
"Yeah, that's him. I could probably convince him to help me convince Mr. Stark to get you an internship with him." My mental self was screaming at me to shut up, I could get in so much trouble with this. "On one condition..."  
"There's always fine print. What is it?"  
"You tell me what you were doing out here arguing with yourself."  
"It's calming. I think better when I talk aloud. Makes my mind makes sense. Keeps it focussed on one thing and not constantly splitting off and getting distracted." She spoke with her hands a lot, using them to mimic branching off-topic whilst fiddling with themselves.  
"That's cool. I really like that. I might try it sometime." Inside, a phone or alarm clock buzzed and distracted Kennedy.  
"I should be asleep or doing homework. Goodnight." She said as she climbed back through her window into the room, closing it behind her. I nodded and shot several webs to swing myself away from the apartment complex. Landing on a rooftop a good eight blocks away, I called Mr. Stark.  
"You know who this is, and what to do." Voicemail. I started to talk anyway, hoping that he might end up seeing it at least.  
"Hello Mr. Stark sir, it's Peter Parker. I, um, have a friend who is really interested in engineering a nano-tracer and so I may have, not purposely, said I would try and see if you wanted to meet her. She has a tonne of cool designs for improving the spider-suit and other gadgets. She doesn't know that I'm Spider-man though, but -" The message-box cut off. At least the most important part of the message was sent through.  
"Hey, Karen."  
"Yes, Peter?"  
"What do you think about Kennedy?"  
"The girl in your class? She's very intelligent, could be a good friend candidate. Why do you ask?"  
"I saw some of her notes yesterday, she had something in it that I didn't understand. Do you or Mr. Stark know anything about WFP75?"  
"There is nothing about a WFP75 in any of Mr. Stark's archives or online."  
My shoulders slumped, I'd been hoping that they had any ideas as to what it was. "Okay, thank you, Karen."

Swinging myself back into my own apartment, I changed and sat down at my textbook covered desk: Physics, Chemistry, Engineering, Maths, multiple novels for English. I rubbed my eyes, getting ready to read over quadratics and polynomials for the umpteenth time. I constantly looked over at the clock, changing subjects every half an hour. Soon, the desk chair had become uncomfortable for reading English novels. I found it easier to sit with my feet up the wall and my back flat against the floor.  
Why, that is nothing: for I tell you, father,  
I am as peremptory as she proud-minded;  
And where two raging fires meet together  
They do consume the thing that feeds their fury:  
The words began to meld into each other, and I couldn't tell my thy, thou and thine apart. Extra letters started to appear in words and the consumed thing that feeds their fury. IT made no sense, and I kept closing my eyes, they wouldn't stay open. I pushed the palms of my hands against them, before slowing dropping my hands to lie on my stomach. My eyes closed one final time as I fell asleep with my feet still above my head on the wall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, chapter three is done! Woot woot! I've written this after spending a week and a Lil bit of just reading. Anything and everything, (smut, fluff, angst, and family) I also just had my friends over last night to celebrate my birthday. We watched infinity war (Alexa play despacito) and stayed up coming up with conspiracies until 2. Also, if you can guess the play, props to you.  
My question to my readers is: What's your favorite and least favorite conspiracy? You can explain if you want to.


	4. So Not Cool

"Honey, wake up. It's 6:50."   
I groggily opened my eyes, hissing at the light streaming through the window into the room. Fumbling for my phone, I grabbed it. Twenty-three texts! I sat up, flipping my hair out of the way. Maybe something major had happened... Nope, just Camilla spamming me about the latest show on Netflix. I grabbed a towel and my outfit for today, before washing my hair in the shower. I had a bit over an hour, I could spend a little time today. Letting my hair air-dry, I sliced some bread and put it into the toaster. Looking over my notes for English Lit first up, I absent-mindedly hummed. Okay, her mother had an affair. She got physically scarred by her father. She refused to talk to everyone but her dad; he was in jail and they met at the end of the play. Not that hard to remember, all I had to do was explain how the play can relate to American students. Quite an easy problem. The toast popped up and I munched it, sketching in my day planner.   
"Your hair looks nice. I'm glad you aren't straightening it today. Giving it a little rest period." My mum pulled her heels on and grabbed some leftovers from the freezer. Handing a lunchbox of stir-fry and noodles to me, she put hers in her bag.  
"Yep, trying to have a calmer day." She nodded, not paying attention anymore. Kissing me on the forehead, she left the house for work. I checked my phone again. 7:40. I could walk again, get some fresh autumn air. Stacking my plate in the dishwasher, I grabbed my beanie and hi-tops. Checking to make sure that laptop and books were all fine, I shouldered my bag and locked the front door behind me.  
The walk was calming, the cool air stung my face slightly. The hustle and bustle of traffic felt like it were my thoughts, stopping and starting sporadically and occasionally colliding with each other. As I got to the corner of the football fields, I passed across the dewy grass. I could get used to this. I took a final deep breath before I entered the hallway, being pushed and shoved into lockers and teenagers alike. Way to ruin a good morning. After fighting the current of students, I managed to get to my locker. Pulling it open, I stacked my lunch and grabbed my play, notebooks and a piece of gum. Closing it, I hurried to the library to get away from the crowds.  
Okay, Ken, you got this. It's just the last bit of study you can do before 40% of your grade is decided. Just your average day. I huffed and banged my head onto the table, receiving a loud shush from the librarian.   
"Ow." I rubbed my temples, digging through my bag for painkillers. Taking two of them, I looked back at the play plastered with colored post-its.  
"Did you just take drugs? Or are you just stressed about your grades?" I looked around and saw a girl with kinked brown hair and black rings under her eyes, she had a large book in front of her.   
"Stress and headaches. Ms. Crawford's going to eat me alive." She nodded at my anguish.  
"I have her next, and yeah. You could fail."  
"That's quite optimistic of you to say," I replied sarcastically. "I'm Kennedy."  
"Michelle, but I don't really care." She looked back at her book, without saying anything else. Um, okay? Just as I was about to say something, the bell for class rang. I just left Michelle and headed to class, not bothering to see if she was doing the same.

The class happened as it usually did during the performance week. The roll was called and people got up for their 5 minutes of telling us what they valued or didn't value in the book that we read.  
"Osmund-Ciardha." I gulped as I got up and stood behind the lectern at the front of the class.  
"Marina, the 15-year-old Australian girl in this play was originally traumatized by her father..." I started to roll my hands and fidgeting as I continued my speech. I couldn't bear to look at anyone in the room and instead opted to look at the books at the far end of the room. By the time the 5 minutes had finished, the majority of the students were already talking to each other and not paying attention.   
"Okay, thank you. Next, Plimsol."  
I sat down and started to rifle through my bag for my water bottle, chugging it quickly. I looked at the clock behind the boy who was speaking, I still had another 30 minutes in this class. That was going to take forever. I grabbed out a notebook and started writing the first thing that came to mind. Poems. They started off as basic limericks about the girl with the large bonnet, and the man with a very long beard. Then the poems lengthened, into the Jabberwocky, and The Walrus and the Carpenter. My eyes flitted across each line, scribbling out lines and words until a random passage appeared. It was just as nonsense as the poems it came from, but at the same time... Nope, it was just nonsensical. I looked back at the clock. I'd just successfully wasted 20 minutes of my time. Now to waste a bit more.  
"May I use the hall pass?" Ms. Crawford just rolled her eyes, before handing me a lanyard. I dashed out of the room and down the halls. Slipping inside the janitor's closet, I pulled out my phone. Tapping a message for myself, I hummed a tune. Outside, I could hear footsteps. Covering my mouth with my hand, I stopped making any sound. The steps grew louder until they stopped. I closed my eyes, silently pleading that the steps would move past my hiding spot. Instead, they halted at the door and opened it.  
"What are you doing in here?" I squinted at the janitor, trying to come up with a lie to answer him.  
"Oh, you know. Just trying to find my earring." I dropped to the ground.  
"This has got to be the third time this month! Get out of my closet!" I nodded and apologized, scurrying back to class.   
Just as I handed back Ms. Crawford's hall pass, the bell went. I silently congratulated myself. Packing up my book and play, I noticed the girl from earlier, Michelle. She looked over at me for a split second, before closing her book and walking to her next class. Hopefully, she had a good one, unlike the gym that I was about to do.

"Did you hear? Betty Brant's parents are going away."  
"And?"  
"She's hosting a party. She's been going around and telling people. She told me in Design." I reached for the ball that Cam held out for me. I folded myself down onto the ground before going back up and twisting to each side. Of course, we had to do thirty of these. I was already sick of them after the first one. Just then, the devil herself decided to strut her way over and interrupt us.  
"Hiya Cam. You know about my party. And so does-" I heard Betty's sickly sweet voice falter, "-Who are you?"  
"Kennedy. We've been going to the same schools since we were twelve."  
"Haha, so funny. But um, no. Kennedy has straight hair and doesn't have freckles." She turned her back on me to face Camilla. "Make sure to tell the real Kennedy that she can come, so long as she dresses like she's actually going to a party."   
And with that, Betty Brant walked away to her friend group to complain about how she had nothing to wear.  
"Cam, what did she mean by that?"  
"By what?" Honestly, she had some smarts to her, but Cam could be the densest and most oblivious person ever.  
"Do I really look that different? And do I not dress right?"  
"No, no, no. You don't look that different. I guess she just hasn't seen this side fo you in ages. As for the dressing, well..."   
"I dress nice."  
"Yeah, like a personal assistant or IT girl from a superhero show. You don't dress teen."  
"Because you do, you wore sweats the other day and now have a mini skirt and crop top."  
"Exactly my point. I dress like any other normal teenager. You don't."  
"Wow, um... Okay. Noted. I can dress for a party tomorrow night."

The school was completely uneventful for the rest of the day. The only fun thing was trying to perfect my recipe for web fluid in chem. It didn't have the best results, melting like gallium to touch until I purified it with WFP75. It was the dumbest and most basic name, I know. But once I purified it, the fluid started to come together into a mouldable ball. Just to check it, I pinched at it and pulled. The webbing was strong and slick. I excitedly wrote in my book about the results, putting the ball of the web into a container to take home. The bell for the final class went, and as I packed up, someone walked up to me.  
"I saw you stirring something. What were you doing?" I looked up, it was Parker.  
"Just an extra credit project." He scrunched his face up before nodding. I asked, "Why?"  
"Curiosity."  
"Well, this has been a fun conversation. But I have to plan what I'm wearing to Betty's party tomorrow."  
"Oh. I'm going to that. My friend Liz asked me." I nodded as he spoke.  
"That's cool, I think. Anyway, bye." I didn't mean for it to come off as rude as it did, but I really had to go home.  
Stashing my textbooks in my locker and putting my earphones in, I started walking home. With only a few blocks to go, I turned into my usual alleyway. I kept walking and flinched as someone tapped me on the shoulder. I looked around, eyes meeting vibrant red and blue lycra.  
"Hello, miss."  
"I have to get home. But two visits in less than 24 hours, that's gotta mean something." I tried to sidestep to keep walking, I had to try and act cool around him. Mentally though, I was squealing and fangirling like I'd met the Tenth Doctor. He sidestepped to match me and block my path.  
"Please, don't go." He then cleared his throat to deepen his voice, "I had a few questions for you if that's alright."  
I nodded, turning my music off and pocketing my earphones.   
"Excellent." He grabbed me by the waist and shot a web that pulled him to the top of the neighboring building's roof. As soon as we'd landed, I pushed myself away from him.  
"What the hell? I could've just died."  
"Sorry. I didn't mean to." His voice sounded familiar, the pitch higher than what I would've originally guessed for him.  
"Then what're the questions? They better be important. My mum could be getting worried." I crossed my arms and tapped my foot, both out of madness but also restlessness. I knew my mother wouldn't worry, she'd still be at work until late.  
"I've heard that you have a recipe on improved web fluid. What's the difference between the one I have and your's?" I had many questions based on that. No one else should have known about my recipe. I was the only person that was supposed to know about my method... Except for Parker. My main suspect must have told Spider-man. They were in cahoots, I knew that from him talking about the Stark Internship last night. Conceding because it was freaking Spider-man who was asking me a question and because then I could show how intelligent I was.  
"They're slicker and start out stickier. Can cling to all the surfaces I've tested. It's almost double the strength of yours whilst using only two-thirds of the amount that you use. So those pellets of it that you have," I point at his shooters positioned on the insides of his wrists, "Mine are the same size but hold more. So there's a longer time between having to replace and reload."  
He just stood there, silent. I couldn't see his eyes so I couldn't imagine what he was thinking. And to be frankly honest, I wasn't sure what I was supposed to say to a superhero. So I tried small talk.  
"So can you actually control spiders, as Ant-man does?"  
"What, nohohoho." He almost laughed.  
"Just something my friend said." I looked around, trying to figure out the next thing I could say. "So, how did you find out about my web fluid?"  
"That's top-secret."  
"Really? I bet I know. It was Parker, wasn't it?"  
"Who?" His voice raised in pitch, he was nervous. He knew that I'd figured it out.  
"You spoke about him last night, said that you're his friend. Said that he'd help put in a good word for me with Mr. Stark and his internship. That Parker. He had my only book that had the recipe in it. Gave it back yesterday, that's plenty of time for him to tell you about it. Unless you are Parker." I looked at Spider-man, who just stood there. I could see him slightly gulp down air, and some nerves. I added, "But that's crazy."  
"Yeah, definitely crazy."  
"Am I free to go? Or did you have any other questions?"  
"Just one more, then you can go. What's WFP75?"  
I laughed. "Isn't it obvious?" He shook his head, clearly it wasn't. "It's short for Web Fluid Purifier. It's my seventy-fifth trial."  
"How long have you been doing this?"  
"The batches for web purifying? That took a couple of weeks, nearly a month." Spider-man stepped back slightly, clearly stunned by the timeframe. "The whole method... whew, um... About four or five months now."  
"That's some dedication."  
"Yeah, well... I just wanted to find something that interests me."  
"Are you saying that I interest you, uh, Kennedy?"  
"Duh, I don't create binders for nothing. And my friends call me Ken." He stepped back clearly shocked.  
"I'm your friend?"  
I smirked, "Nope. You're an unknown, but I'd prefer to have friends. I don't have many. Can I go now?"  
"Yeah, uh. This is your building anyway. So, that fire escape there should lead you to your apartment." I nodded and headed down the ladder he was pointing to. Jumping onto the platform, I looked up about to say goodbye. No one was there. I smiled as I opened my bedroom window, such a boy of theatrics. Now, I set myself down at my desk. This homework wasn't going to finish itself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2465 words! That has to be my longest chapter yet. And they're only going to get longer! Hopefully, you enjoy them, and I'm not drawing them out excessively. If so, I'm sorry. Tell me and I'll try to reel them back in.   
I've had to develop a method of only writing this at night because I proof and write so many other stories that I've developed a timetable for when I'm in the right mindset for each one. So chapters for this will also be published at night. In my timezone anyway.  
Question for the chapter: What do you think is the best breakfast and how? Like cereal with milk first or last? OR pancakes with maple syrup in the batter or on top?


	5. He Will Clearly Never Be Knighted

Hi, Kennedy. It's me — uh, Peter. Peter Parker, Mr. Stark said that he's considering to see you about an internship.   
Oh my gods. I couldn't believe it. I immediately sat up in bed, regretting the decision. My head swum, and I nearly fell back down. 3am. That wasn't too early to get ready for the day. Setting myself on the floor in front of my full length mirror, I started to curl my hair.  
"Hello, my name is Kennedy Osmund-Ciardha. I was the one that Peter told you about, I think. Yes- designs, here they are. Just basic and still in their infancies. But I am working to mature them." I quietly chatted with the mirror, pretending that I was in a meeting with Mr. Stark. I couldn't wait, it would be excellent. Just as I'd finished curling my hair, and getting up to pick out my wardrobe for the day, I realised. I grabbed my phone again, the text said considering. It might not actually happen. Shoulders slumping I fell against my bed frame. Fantastic, I got my hopes up for nothing. I threw my phone on the bed, turning away from it and finding an old book to distract myself. After I'd read the first ten chapters, I turned to check my alarm clock. 5:27. I might as well get ready, for today and tonight. I still had to pick out a 'teen' dress for the party. Swinging through the rack of dresses, not a single one fit the criteria. What even was 'teen'? I had nothing super short, body-con or with any exposed backs. That was just asking for trouble. I could see a nice Purple and black floral dress; it was sleeveless, and was above the knee. That would work. I packed that and my classic black sweater. Autumn nights got chilly quickly. For actual school however, I grabbed my dark blue skinny jeans, and a light grey and white baseball-style tee. Throwing it on, I gathered my computer and books into my bag, picking up my phone last. Three new texts, and a missed call.   
This is Pepper Potts, CEO of Stark Industries. Would you be able to come in for an appointment at Stark Tower this afternoon at 4:15?  
I grinned, thanking the gods that I ended up doing my hair anyway, and for not having gym class today. I read the second text.  
Did you see the news? Spider-boy or whatever almost drowned.  
Why would Camilla text me about the news? She never did that unless she was about to bail out of a plan. She confirmed it.  
I can't come to the party tonight, Brian has me on lockdown, but you can still go. Get your groove on, and don't be an old granny!  
Brian had to be the worst father ever. He never spoke to Cam unless he wanted something, and then he'd punish her by grounding her. Her family had to be even more complicated than mine. I checked my voicemail, slightly surprised that it was from Parker.  
"Hey, it's Peter! Mr. Stark said that he's set up an appointment with you. I'm so excited for you, sorry, that came out wrong." I had to stifle a laugh as he apologised. "Anyway, he said that he would almost definitely be interested in having you. Oh crap, you're probably asleep. Sorry! Um, yeah. Bye."  
I dropped my bag by the door, grabbing the milk and hot chocolate mix from the fridge and pantry. Setting the kettle to boil, I made myself some tea and scrolled through my news feed. Just as I'd thought, Cam hadn't seen anything happening around the city. It just spoke of presidential candidates and our currency fairing against that of other countries. Our dollar was worth 1.42 Australian dollars at the moment. Perfect time to plot a trip. After scrolling through the materialistic photos and cheesy lyric captions of my fellow school peers on Instagram, I grabbed my bag and scarf to head out the door. 

School's uneventfulness was the perfect time to write miniature palm cards and prepare myself for the interview. Cam had hung out with Betty so that she was closer in favour for not being able to attend the party. At lunch, I sat by myself in the library, not eating or caring. My favourite bands blasted through my earphones, drowning out the silence. I hadn't seen Parker until our last class together. I grabbed out my laptop and opened an online doc so that we could chat through it.  
Ken O-C: Hey, thanks again for the interview.  
Peter P: no problem, i just hope that you hadn't heard my voicemail...  
Ken O-C: Guilty, and it was the best one I've had in ages.  
Peter P: please don't judge me too harshly  
Ken O-C: I would never  
The class continued on as usual, the occasion smile from Peter and I as we sat sending each other puns and jokes relating to the cringiness of his voicemail, and my nerves for the meeting.

The bell to signal the end of the day rung, and I quickly exited class. Swapping some books from my locker and bag, I started to head to Stark Tower. I could easily identify it from the giant unnerving skyscraper that it was. Stepping through the spinning door, I headed over to the receptionist, very much aware that I was 35 minutes early.  
“Hi.”  
“Hello, welcome to Stark Tower. Do you have an appointment?”  
“Yes, 4:15. Kennedy Osmund-Ciardha.” I answered almost as robotically as she’d asked me. As the receptionist click-clacked on her keyboard, she squinted at the screen.  
“Since you’re here early, and top priority for Mr. Stark, take this keycard and press the third button in the elevator. Mr. Hogan will be waiting for you.” She handed me a small electric-blue card and pointed me in the direction of the elevators. I nodded and thanked her, heading into a vacant elevator. Swiping the card and pressing the button, I looked around. It was sadly just your average lift, no fancy bells or cool music. Once the doors had opened, I stepped out into an underground parking lot? A black range rover hummed in front of me, and I couldn’t help but gawk. The polarised window to the driver’s side rolled down and a man told me to hop in. I guessed that that was Mr. Hogan, and followed his orders.  
In the back seat of the car, flipping between going over my cards and fangirling to Peter and myself. The drive was smooth and at one point I had become so bored that I’d imagined another me in the back with me, and I started a conversation with her.  
“We’re here. Try not to be too weird.” Mr. Hogan said as he scrolled down the partition between us.  
“You-you heard me?”  
“The conversation, yes. It seems to be the thing with the lot of you.” I opened my mouth to question what he meant by ‘the lot of you,’ but instead got out of the car to see a sleek, concrete building. Shouldering my bag, I followed Mr. Hogan. The hallways seemed familiar, like something I’d seen in a dream. I’d followed him through several winding halls before he turned around to face me. “Listen, wait here for Ms. Potts to tell you to go in. And if you go anywhere else, there’ll be trouble.”

I nodded and stood there, tapping my foot impatiently for several minutes. It surely wouldn’t hurt to look through one door, right? I chose the door to my right, feeling lucky. Opening it, a large four-poster bed sat at the far end of the room, its lavish purple bedspread and matching curtains drawn and made neatly. The room enthralled me and I stepped further in. Déjà vu, I had definitely seen this room before. The giant closet and reading nook adorned the wall to my left, and a huge closet and ensuite to my right. I headed to the walls, hoping to see any images that might give away where I was, and who’s room I was in. I saw nothing but photos of a small, fluffy dog and several posters for famous TV shows and bands.  
“Wow…” I looked through the bookshelves, holding series of books that I’d been dying to read for months. Plucking a book from the shelf, I gingerly flipped to the first page. There was a ‘Happy Birthday’ message but no name, just the affectionate title of ‘sweetheart.’ Putting the book back, I turned around too fast. My bag knocked into the case, causing a crash. From under the bed, an oversized mothball zoomed over, yipping and arfing and jumping at my legs.  
“Sh! Sh! I’m not supposed to be here. Be quiet!” Panicking, I hushed the dog to no avail. I picked it up, quietening it and searching the collar for a name. Ella. “Be quiet, Ella.”  
She immediately complied at her name.  
“Huh, that’s the first time someone’s been able to do that to her in two years.” I turned my head to face the door, a ginger-haired lady in a dress stood there. “I’m assuming you’re here to see Tony?”  
I nodded, still holding the dog.  
“Come this way, you can bring Ella if you’d like.” So I did, following Ms. Potts into a meeting room with a bundle of dog in my arms. “Tony, she’s here. Don’t be weird.”  
With that Ms. Potts left the room, which caused an unsettling cold to brew. I remained standing by the now closed door, whilst Tony – er, Mr. Stark – sat in a leather chair with his back to me. Dramatically, he swung it around and propped his feet up on the table.  
“You’re the one that Peter spoke about?” I nodded. “Wow, small world. Of course that’s where he hid you though. Right in plain sight.”  
“I’m sorry, sir. But, I don’t know what that means. Who hid me?”  
He inclined his head, “What’s your family like? What do your parents do?”  
“My mum works as a real estate agent.”  
“Your father? Any siblings?”  
“One brother, he left last year. Same with father.” I looked down at the dog, who had started to lick my hand.

“How long have you been at Midtown?”  
“Since start of freshman, so a year and a bit. Why? What’s it to you?”  
“You’re so much like him, I can even see the similarities.”  
“Isn’t there some other thing we should be talking about? Like why I was originally brought here?” Using one hand, I pulled out my binder and threw it down the length of the table at Tony. Feeling more confident, I sat down at the head of the table, almost tempted to put my feet up too.  
“Oh, yes. M – well, your intellect. And curiosity, you think you know who Spider-man is?” He flipped through the binder, putting a pair of retro and slightly ugly glasses on. “Friday, does this look right?”  
A slightly Scottish voice materialised in the room, “Yes, incredibly accurate. Although some of the materials aren’t registered in any of our databases.”  
“Huh, kid?” He looked at me, “Did someone find Easy-Bake too easy?”  
“Easy-Bake sucked, and I’m 15, almost 16 in twenty-three days. I don’t try, I do.”  
“75 is still quite a high number –“

“- Failure just means that I’m one step closer to success.” He opened his mouth to try and reply with a snarky comment, but was fruitless and just looked like an idiot. “And it’s my own substance, no assistance or advision.”  
“So who do you think it is?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okie dokie. So I originally had a different plot for this story that followed a bit of a mutant-mutate crossover into the X-verse, but then I had this hyperrealistic dream when we were driving home the other day. So naturally, I voice recorded it and typed out a synopsis. It paired several of my favourite ships and can also help broaden the plot so that so much more can happen. Last night I wrote 4000 words, a mix of this chapter and the next because I needed to write. I write more and will be posting more chapters more frequently if there's been trouble. Like friday night, my friend ditched me and scolded me for wanting to hand out with her. And she didn't apologise, so I'm not sure if I'm just stuck up and obstinate or she's oblivious, or both. Anyway, I should be talking to my therapist about this, not my readers. Also, I feel as though I'm going a bit too fast into the story, IDK, what are your opinions? Do I need to slow down and do some little filler chapters on building relationships between the characters? If I do, give me some suggestions and I can try and do them, because this is as much your story as it is mine!  
Question: If you could have any superpowered legacy or heritage in the Marvel Universe (movies and comics), what would it be?  
I myself would love to be a descendant of Wanda Maximoff, via her son William. Because there could be a possibility of mutant powers, and I would have some dope dads (Teddy Altman and William Kaplan)


	6. Welcome to Your Real Life

“YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!”  
“No, Kennedy. It’s not a joke. This is quite serious.” Dad had taken a seat at the conference table, hands steepled as his eyes followed me.  
“No shit, Sherlock. You left Jens, Mum and I. For no reason, just gone.” I’d sat the dog in my chair and had started pacing angrily around the room. Stark was having a field day, between almost laughing at me and my dad. Oh boy, I was tempted to throw a chair at him.  
“That is completely inaccurate.”  
“Jensen left too! Because of you!” I jabbed him in the chest, wanting to just hit something.  
“He didn’t.”  
“No, you wouldn’t know because you-“  
“Your brother never existed.” I looked at him incredulously as he said it so calmly. How did he seem so unfazed by this, and yet my world was getting torn apart? I opened my mouth, but he continued, “Same with your mother. Never existed.”  
“Then how am I here?”  
“Recombinant DNA. Simply put, you’re a clone.” It was the first thing Stark had said in the last thirty minutes of me ranting.  
“Clone of who?”  
“Isn’t it obvious? Us.” Stark waved between the pair of them.  
“If I was a clone, wouldn’t I only have new memories? Also, human clones don’t exist. Not yet, so you’re definitely lying to me. I don’t think I want an internship under a liar. ” Dad just shook his head, patting a chair for me to sit down in. I refused.  
“You are right in the fact that clones don’t exist yet. You’re more than that.”  
“Then tell me, help me understand this. Since I’m not ‘conventionally created’,” I airquoted it and laughed sarcastically, “Explain it.”  
“Stark and I had wanted a child-“  
“-Wait, you two? Aren’t you and Ms. Potts a thing?”  
“For media purposes.”  
“Anyway, we created you by splicing and recombining our genetic material in an embryo which was then grown at an increased rate using a pod that Tony invented and some of my knowledge of the mystical arts. At the same time, we were able to implement and create false memories to occupy your mind so that you wouldn’t consider yourself newborn.”  
“Ok hold the hell up, mystical arts? You’re not freaking Merlin.” My knuckles were white against the back of the chair I was gripping to stay upright. Dad shrugged.  
“That’s because Merlin is a legend, and what I do is different to that.”  
“Still, next thing to unpack from that giant gordian knot of an answer. Are you saying that you built me, like… Like some kind of robot? Who’s to say I won’t turn against humanity and kill a tonne of people? Did you even think about that?”  
“No, no, sweetheart. You are completely human.” Dad brushed a piece of hair behind my ear, before continuing. “You did live here for a while, but it got a bit too much. And that’s okay, we were all new at this. Tony and I had a bit of a fight about what we should’ve done. So you and I left. We went back to my old apartment.”  
“And I don’t remember this, why? What I suppose you tampered with my memory? Since when could you do that? Is that even moral?” I was close to tears; they were welling in my eyes as I continued to look between my supposed fathers.  
“Considering that he was a doctor, he should know that it wasn’t the best way to go about the situation.” Tony interjected which resulted in a death glare from Dad.  
“I did it to keep you safe. Wong was protecting the Sanctum and I had to protect you and the Sanctum. So, I created what you thought was your family and replaced your memories of life here.” I didn’t understand what this ‘Sanctum’ was but I decided not to ask about it, otherwise the conversation would just become even more tedious. Dad continued, “When I ‘left’ the family, it became harder to keep up the illusions. That’s why you thought your brother left too.”  
“Then why did mum stay around the longest?”  
“Because you believed in her being real and clung to that belief the most, which made it easier to tether her to reality. A sort of feedback loop if you will. She never existed either.”  
“Has anything in my life been real?” My leg shook vigorously and I wanted to jump from my seat.  
“Your schooling. Your intelligence and curiosity.”  
“So, just out of curiosity, were you ever planning to give me back my memories? Or were those just thrown out like trash?”  
“If they were fazed back into your psyche properly and with adequate time so that your mind would be able to repair itself, I don’t see why not.”  
“Ok. Can we start now with the basics? No memories, just facts.”  
“Yes, honey.”  
“Absolutely,” Tony, my other father apparently, replied.  
“What is my actual name?”  
“Kennedy Maria Lauren Stark-Strange. It became Osmund-Ciardha because of the rarity and also because Osmund was my mother’s maiden name.” Dad explained as I nodded. Both the names had a rhythm to them, like a pattern. My heart beat louder and I felt a surge of questions come out all at once.  
“What am I meant to do for school? Am I living here? Whose dog is that?” I pointed at Ella, who was fast asleep on the chair, lying sideways like she was running before more questions filled my mind. “What about Mom? Like does she just disappear when I head to school, or did other people interact with her too? How were we able to afford that apartment if she didn’t exis-”  
“- Ok, calm down. Breathe. School we can sort out tomorrow, we have the weekend to decide.” Dad explained.  
“You can live with whoever you want, but Stephen won’t be at his apartment because he’ll be at the Sanctum, so it’d be easier to live here. And Ella is your dog, she was your ‘creation’ present. Your birthday present in other terms, I guess.” I pressed the palms of my hands to my temples, shaking my head hurriedly, trying to take in the information.  
“Oh no. Shit.”  
“Language,” both my fathers replied sharply.  
“I was meant to go to a party tonight.”  
“What are you waiting for, go get changed. You can go.” Tony waved for me to go out the door and leave.  
“No, I didn’t want to go. I only remembered because my friend said I don’t dress the way I should.”  
“You dress fine, sweetheart. Very mature, and fun. It’s versatile.” Dad tried reasoning while Tony, who I still didn’t know what to call, scoffed loudly at him.  
“You dress like a personal assistant. The closet should have some teen things, I gave Wanda, Nat and Pepper my card while you were away.”  
“Aren’t they all in their early thirties?”  
“Wanda’s only 19, I’ll have you know.” He stuck his hands on his hips and poked out his tongue.  
“Ok, whatever.” I leaned over the back of one of the chairs and picked up Ella, rubbing her back as she nestled into my arms. “Also, what am I supposed to call you?”  
“Whatever you want, just not old.”  
“Dope. Night then. Dad,” I said as I kissed his forehead and nodded over at Tony, “Retro.”  
“Ouch, that hurt. Night, squirt.”   
I left the room, about to close the door before turning around, “Where’s my room?”  
Tony tapped something on his watch which lit up the hallway, so I just nodded and followed the yellow LED hall lights.  
As I headed to ‘my’ room, I placed Ella on my bed and set my laptop up. Digging through some drawers, I found some pyjama shorts that were covered in Harry Potter characters and an oversized grey shirt that donned the infamous glasses and lightning bolt.  
“Do you usually sleep up here?” I asked Ella, who had moved so that she was nestled in my cross-legged lap. “Okay then.”  
I opened my laptop and hotspot it to my phone – my laptop had only been last year’s birthday present – and started trying to see if anything came up with the name my dad had used. Stephen Osmund-Ciardha didn’t exist… But Stephen Strange had. The only thing I could see about a Stephen Strange was that he had received his M.D. and PhD at the same time, was a practicing neurosurgeon for several years, and had gotten into a career-ending car accident. As I started to fall down the rabbit hole of conspiracies as to everything ever related to Tony Stark, my laptop fortunately died. Shifting Ella so she laid beside me, I snuggled under the covers, checking my phone one last time. I had 9 messages and 3 voicemails, but it was so hard to keep my eyes open that I just closed them off to deal with in the morning.

“That went interesting.”  
“Interesting? She called me ‘Retro,’ that’s practically calling me old.”  
“It’s the glasses, they look like you stole them directly from the seventies.”  
“Stephen, she’s so much like you. So very set on one thing, have you seen all of this?” I gestured at the binder that I’d dismantled and splayed the pages over the table. All the equations, perfect sketch replicas of web shooters. “She even created her own substance, seventy-five times. Didn’t give up once, apparently.”  
“Obviously, failure is just one step closer to success.”  
“She said that too.”  
“Kennedy’s smart, but she didn’t start any of this when I was still there.” I looked up at him, as he poured over the pages.  
“And how would you know? You hid my daughter and then abandoned her.”  
“Because she wasn’t stable here! Every day she was here you could see a new crack in her mind. I could feel it.”  
“You made her forget about me! You created her a whole new family and past!” I slammed my fist down on the table, shaking it slightly.  
“To keep her safe!”  
“You didn’t even tell me what you were doing. I would have left here to protect her, you know I would. Anything, I’d have done anything. Instead, you left me too!” My voice cracked slightly as the pain from being abandoned by someone you love came back. Stephen’s eyes softened and I could see his brain move from trying to rationalise to emotionalise,“I tried to call Wong and the Sanctum. Everyone thought you were dead. Disappeared off the face of the earth. With my only daughter. Do you know how much that killed me each day?”  
“Tony, believe me when I say that it killed me too, but with you she wouldn’t truly have left this life. Not completely. But I also had to leave her. The safety of the Sanctum and all reality was at stake.”  
“You sent her to school with Peter Parker.”  
“Who?”  
“This Spider-boy, the one she was trying to unmask out of curiosity. The one behind this.” I waved my hands wildly at the pages once again.  
“That was pure chance. I sent her there, because like us, she has a science and logic-based mind. Going to a school where that’s encouraged was better than any other run of the mill state highs.”  
“Ok, sure. Maybe you’re right about the school,” I huffed, crossing my arms as Stephen stepped closer to me. “But, we still haven’t talked about us fully.”  
“Then let’s. What do you want to talk about?” He wrapped his arms around my shoulders, leaning into me.  
“You just took her and left. I didn’t get to say goodbye. To either of you. I couldn’t even contact you.”  
“I understand.” Stephen nodded, his chin nudging my shoulder each time that it moved. “I got tunnel-vision and prioritized Kennedy’s safety above keeping our family together.”  
“Can we not have another fight like that? I don’t want to lose you or Kennedy like that again.”  
“Mmm, I agree. But let’s not dwell on the past? How about dinner? You look half-starved.” He let go of my shoulders and grabbed my hand, leading me to where our studio sized room was at the end of the east wing. I grabbed some leftover spaghetti from my fridge in the small kitchen and two forks. Sitting in the two armchairs by the large window that overlooked the facility, we took turns digging in. I felt calmer than I had been since they’d gone, like my life was complete again.  
“My miguelito?”  
“Wha?” He said, his mouth full of spaghetti.  
“We still have to tell the rest of the Avengers, and organise what’ll happen with you, Wong and the Sanctum.”  
“Good points. But we can deal with that tomorrow. Are you ready for bed?”  
“Not just yet. How about something else instead to warm the bed up?” I leaned closer, whispering into Stephen’s ear as his eyes lit up.  
“I could be persuaded to do that…”

“Good morning, sleepyhead.”  
“Mmm, more sleep.” I groaned, turning away from the voice.  
“Tony, you have to wake up. Lots to do today. I’ve got coffee for you, too.” At the word coffee, I had slowly risen up and out of bed, wiping the sleep from my eyes. Stephen sat at the counter, hands around a cup while wrapped in a sweater. He nodded to the cup opposite him.  
“When did you get up?”  
“An hour ago.”  
“That’s unreasonable.”  
“6:45?”  
“That’s disgusting, it’s a weekend.”  
“If it makes you feel any better, Miss Kennedy was up at 3:05.” Friday’s disembodied voice called through the room.  
“Oh, yeah? What’d she do? Ten bucks says she was on her phone.”  
“No way, she’d be walking around the halls, trying to learn where stuff was,” Stephen answered between sips of his golden-brown beverage.  
“You’re so on. Friday?”  
“Dr. Strange is right, sir. She was walking around.” I huffed, getting up and opening my wallet, slapping down the closest thing I had to a tenner, which turned out to be a fifty.  
“Thank you kindly.” Stephen smirked as he pocketed it, sipping his coffee again.  
“Friday, do we have anything important on today?”  
“No, sir. Just dinner scheduled with Daisy Johnson and Melinda May tonight at 8pm.”  
“Excellent. Shall we go have a family breakfast?” I turn to Stephen and ask him, skulling the remainder of my coffee.  
“Yes, shall we ask her what she wants?”  
“So double or nothing?” I raised my brow, “I reckon Ken will want Canadian pancakes.”  
“No way, bacon and eggs. It’s a classic.”  
“With all due respect, I believe that Miss Kennedy will want to have waffles.” The AI had also joined the conversation.  
“Good choice but Friday if you win, we won’t pay you.”  
“I wouldn’t expect it, sir.”  
“Wow. I cannot believe you let your AIs bet.” Stephen had crossed his arms, looking deeply disappointed.   
“You should see Dum-E and U. They love basketball and the major league.”  
“What am I going to do with you, Tony?” Stephen queried to me as I pecked his cheek. I entwined our hands as we headed to the complex’s main kitchen. To my surprise, Kennedy wasn’t already there.  
“Yo, Friday! Can you navigate Kennedy here? She’s probably lost.”  
“No, I’m not. I was just waiting. What’s up?” Kennedy sat up from behind the island counters of the kitchen, a cup of juice in one hand.  
“What do you want for breakfast?”  
“I’ve already eaten.”  
“You have?” Stephen and I both spluttered.  
“Yeah,” Ken held up a bag of coloured hoops and milk. “Fruit loops and vanilla malt shake in one. I call it ‘Fruitilla’ and it will soon become a nationwide trend.”  
“I don’t think you got enough sleep.” Stephen said.  
“No, I did. But I was also a bit anxious because what if a bomb went off and I had no idea where to go.”  
“Back to the topic of ‘Fruitilla’, it sounds gross- “ I shook my head at the venomously bright colours in the bag.   
“-Try it, you’ll love it.” Reluctantly I grabbed the bag that she’d passed me. I raised it questioning her, and she explained. “There was only a bit left and I couldn’t be bothered doing dishes.”  
I took a spoon and scooped a bit out. It was so sweet; I swore that I would instantly become diabetic. The iciness of the ice cream from the malt shake was on the opposite spectrum of the crunchy hoops. And yet, somehow it worked. I looked over at Stephen, surprise all over my face, “Holy shit. This kid’s a genius.”  
“And you wonder where she learnt to swear.” Stephen just shook his head in disappointment. “I’m making pancakes if you want some, Ken.”  
“Oh, my gods. Yes! And bacon?”  
“Bada bing! Pay up, Stark!”  
“Just ‘cause you lived with her longer.” I chucked two fifties at him, throwing the wallet onto the bench. 

“What’s happening today, gents?” Kennedy had smashed her pancakes quicker than Stephen or I, despite it being her second breakfast.  
“I’m setting you up with an AI, and we have to figure out what’s happening with school and living.”  
“Noice, that’s smart. What’re you doing, Dad?” We both looked at Stephen. He finished his drink of orange juice.  
“I have to go help Wong with the Sanctum, but I can come back later with some of your stuff from the apartment.” Ken and I nodded. He got up, cleared his plate before kissing both of us on the forehead and saying goodbye. Stephen then created a portal and stepped through it.  
“Ok, so with the AI, let’s get down to business. Do you want a male or female? Certain accent? Have you got a name?”  
“Um… Female. Australian. Abigail.”  
“Why Australian?” I scrunched up my eyebrows in intrigue.  
“They sound cool, plus we all know that Australia doesn’t exist.”  
“Ok… I guess we can sort that out.” I nodded before continuing to eat.  
“Hey, um… Tony?”  
“What’s up, kiddo?”  
“Are there any rules that I should know? What I can and can’t do? Where can I go?”  
“Nope, just relax. This is pretty much Chill city. Do what you want, just don’t be an idiot.”  
“Cool. Do we have a theatre room?” I nodded to answer her, my mouth laden with pancakes and syrup.  
“Noice, and do you have a charger for my laptop?” I nodded, we most likely had one in the lab. Bruce used to have the same laptop as Kennedy’s.  
“Why? What are you planning?”  
“Something. Also, are any of your teammates here? Or going to be here later?”  
“Yeah, some of them. Shall I get as many to come as possible?” She nodded vigorously.  
“Wait up. Was I right?”  
“With what?”  
“My hunch and investigating. Peter Parker’s Spider-Man, isn’t he?” I shook my head.  
“Beats me, I didn’t even know he existed before you sent in the video and showed me the binder yesterday.”  
“Wait, I did something before the ‘amazing Stark’?” And she started cackling maniacally. “Yes. Finally, I did it!”  
“You’re not to tell a soul. Or else, we may have to keep you from going back to school.”  
“Like people would believe me, about that or being a clone and being a genius. Puh-lease.”  
“Oh, yeah. You’re still Osmund-Ciardha at school. Don’t want to have to share you with the paparazzi and everyone else. We only just started being a family again.”  
“Noted. Have you and Dad ever called yourselves the ‘facial hair’ bros?”  
“What kind of question is that? You know your dad would hate it if I did. Duh, Of course I have.”


	7. My Littlest AI Helps Me Create Friendly Fire

"Woah, this has to be the coolest lab ever! What do you do here?" I raced over to a desk that was covered in the same lighting x-ray images were shown through.   
"That's a holo-table. You used to be my blueprint girl and give me input on how to improve the designs." Tony slurped from his fourth coffee of the day, activating the table and swiping through a tonne of images it displayed. "Have a look through, they're mainly of the three of us."  
I did just that, sitting on a stool and swiping through. There was a photo of me holding a tray of lasagne which looked half burnt, cheekily grinning as Tony face-palmed in the background. I continued swiping, coming across a selfie of Dad and I in workout gear, amidst some green trees. After several more scrolls, one image stood out. It wasn't an image, but a video so I pressed play. I stood at one end of the lab, a watch on my wrist jittering with electric-blue light. The video me flicked my wrist in a circle, a bolt of the energy shooting out. The clip quickly spun to Tony at the other end of the lab, holding a bag of exploded popcorn. "Boom! Told you it would work," the video version of myself laughed at the popcorn in Tony's hair and the bag he was holding so still. "Tony! Kennedy! The movie's ready!" "Coming Dad! Come on, Paps!" I grabbed videoTony's hand as the clip ended.  
I looked across the lab at Tony, his retro glasses pushed firmly up the bridge of his nose. He was busily running diagnostics on the numerous screens around him. "Hey, Tony?"  
"Hmm." He kept working, just acknowledging me with a nonchalant sound. I spun around in the chair.  
"Did I used to call you Paps?" He looked up, rubbing the slight wetness from behind his glasses. He nodded before clearing his throat.  
"So, Abigail. Why that name?"  
"It's cool, I don't know. Nicknames would be easy too, Abby, Abs, Gail." He nodded, his attention going back to his screens and keyboard.  
"Can I borrow a screen? I wanted to try and find something for tonight." He pointed at a neatly set up desk, purple and gold pens and stationery in a cup. I looked at the computer, "Yo, what's the password?"  
"Ella. Capital E." That was such an easy password, the computer could easily have been broken into, whoever owned it was obviously a dweeb. Typing it in, the computer sent me onto the home screen covered in photos of Ella the dog, my dads and me. I was the dweeb that could easily get hacked. Going onto the internet I found a website we had used in every single class at school, one that was more friendship breaking than Mario party and Monopoly. Kahoot. I logged into my account, searching up as many kahoots on the Avengers and pop cultural things as I could. I found and created a list of a collective 100 questions. After sitting around and doing nothing else for what felt like twenty minutes, I left the lab in favour of walking around the facility. In the daytime, it looked so different than earlier this morning. Small LEDs no longer lit up the paths and the concrete of the building looked duller, calmer. I leaned against a glass banister, seeing one of the maroon-coloured jets land on the ground. It was quite a way away and I could barely make out three figures heading out the rear door. As they headed closer to where I stood, I started to panic. Was I meant to be out? Am I allowed to be walking around like this? I found a corner and hid in it, turning my phone onto its front facing camera view and positioning it so that I could see around the corner. A black and grey suit of metal much like Tony's folded back on itself to reveal a man with leg braces, along with someone I recognised as Black Widow. Her hair gave her away, while she chatted with another woman. I remembered back to last night, Tony had said something about a ‘Wanda’, and from how young she looked, I assumed that was her.   
I had my back pressed against the hard wall, pain spiking in my kinked neck. I shifted the smallest bit so that I could stay still easier, creating the smallest noise possible. Somehow, Natasha - as Tony had called her - heard it, snapping her hand out like a cobra and snatching my phone.  
"Hey! That's mine!" I yelled, before realising that I'd given myself away. "Shit."  
"You have a minute to explain why you're here. 59-"  
"I figured out who someone was, I got put in a car here last night. Turns out my family was fake, and I actually have two dads and a dog. One of them likes my unhealthy food and the other is a wizard." I stepped out from behind the plant in the corner, hands raised and panic clearly evident in my voice.  
"Better not let the captain hear you say any more bad words, might get grounded." Natasha tossed my phone back to me, "Good to see you're back."  
"You knew me?" Nat nodded to answer my question.  
"Yeah, pretty much taught you how to fight."  
"That can't be right. I don't remember fighting."  
"Shame, I'll have to reteach you. You know Wanda, right?" I shook my head but waved at her. She had lovely long hair, and the red of her jacket complimented it so nicely.  
"You're the Kennedy that Tony talks about. Nice to finally meet you," she spoke with a heavy European accent before heading down the hallway away from us.   
"So, mini-Stark? Do you at least remember me?"  
I looked at the man, he definitely looked familiar, "No, I don't sorry. Apparently a lot has changed in the last two years though."  
"That's alright. You look so much like your dads, it's ridiculous."  
"Not really. Isn't it just producing a clone using X chromosome copies of their recombinant DNA?"  
"I have no idea what that means, but absolutely. You've got their intelligence too." He ruffled my hair before heading with Natasha to the kitchen, undoubtedly to get something to eat.  
I continued walking around the facility, heading along the winding route back to my room. Putting my phone on charge, I went into the ensuite and filled the oversized tub with hot water and fragrant soaps. Settling into the water, I closed my eyes. It was so quiet and peaceful. Opening my eyes again, I no longer sat in my room at the Avengers facility. I sat fully clothed in the middle of a library. Ancient books and scrolls lined the walls and sat on podiums throughout the room. I stepped closer to one, carefully turning it to the front page. The Nemeinian, I had no idea what it meant but it called to me. I put it down, stepping back. "Nope. You've seen a tonne of horror movies. We know how this path goes."  
"But it looks so good, and I can hear it." I replied to my own outer thoughts, stepping closer to the book again. I was just about to open to the first page when a hand snapped it shut.  
"What are you doing?"  
"Hiya, Dad. Um, I don't know."  
"How did you even get here?"  
I shrugged, just as confused as he was. "I was just sitting at the facility and I woke up here."  
"Hmm, interesting. You should still be heading home." Dad answered as he opened a portal back to my room, I waved to him as I stepped through and it closed. Sitting back on my bed, I grabbed my phone. Scrolling through my messages, there were several from Camilla and Peter about what happened last night. Texting them I told them I forgot and ended up falling asleep studying. Cam complained that now neither of us would be part of the popular crowd now, while Peter asked if I managed to get an intern position. I smiled slightly at his question, he seemed to care about me, it was so sweet. I also had a voicemail from an unknown number, so I pressed play and brought my phone close to my ear.  
"Kennedy, come down to the lab when you're ready. Got a surprise for you." It was Tony, and I quickly bounced out into the halls, Ella at my heels. By the time we'd gotten to the lab, I'd picked her up and was petting her thick coat. As the doors opened, Tony had been disturbed by the sound. "Ah! Finally, you're here! Where have you been?"  
"I was wondering that too. What's the surprise?"  
"Kennedy, meet Abigail. Abigail, introduce yourself."  
"Good afternoon, Miss Kennedy. I'm Abigail, your AI. I act as a technological personal assistant." The twang of Australian accent in her voice was awesome. I grinned from ear to ear.  
"No need to call me miss, that's way too formal. Just Ken."  
"Indeed, Ken." Tony had started fiddling around with a watch, its purple band and gold face matching the colours of my room and computer screen. He beckoned me over, fastening the wrist on my right hand.  
"Ok, so Abigail is in this, and can be added to your phone. No dramas." He then proceeded to show me several cool functions of the watch. It was like an Apple watch on steroids and made by a mad scientist. Just as we had finished wrapping up, my phone pinged.  
"Kahoot time! To the theatre room!" I was followed out of the lab by an anxious Tony.  
"What the shit is a kahoot?"

"How are you meant to pronounce that?"  
"I believe it is said mem-ie." Steve and Sam argued over the first set of questions. They also didn't understand that they could use nicknames, instead showing up as Steve and Sam. Tony and I had managed to convince Dum-E and U to join, and if it weren't for their prolonged wait before choosing the right answer, they'd be on top. I sat, laughing at the chaos. Tony sat on one of the chairs closer to the back, trying to cheat by hacking the system and looking for the answers, but completely overlooking how easy it actually is to find them. Natasha and Wanda had created an alliance, calling themselves the Redbacks. They were coming second behind Vision, who had named himself, Megamind. Somehow, he had the most knowledge on old vines and memes. Probably because he was only new too.  
"Boom! That wraps up the memes. Coming in first with a total of 31 out of 35, Megamind. Second goes to the Redbacks, nicely done ladies, a 29 out of 35. We have the Roboto Boys, 19 out of 35. Tony, stop cheating."  
"Am not! I'm just doing work."  
"I'm calling BS. Steve, I can forgive you for being frozen in ice for years, but Sam... You should really know this stuff, get it together, dude." I teased, tossing bags of popcorn at each group. "Next up, who's ready for... Friend or foe? We have here surveillance footage or journal entries that I found of most of you talking to either a friend or an enemy. Points go to who gets the right answer first, bonus for if you know who the exact person." A round of grudges and sighs protruded. I smirked, this had to be a great games night.  
"You shut me out. You think I care? You take away my world... I take away yours."  
"Bing! Over here."  
"Sam straight off the bat, fire away."  
"It's foe. Loki to Thor?" I stuck my thumb up before dropping it and blowing it up, along with sounds.  
"Vision, you think you know it?"  
"Foe. Ultron to I." I nodded, chucking a bag of popcorn at him. "Abigail, point to Megamind."  
The wall behind me lit up with a running tally from the games we've played earlier and our new game.  
"Next quote: 'Whosoever, be he worthy, shall haveth the power', whatever man! It's a trick!"  
"Ken!"  
"Tony! Take it away."  
"That's Clint, to Thor. They have got to be friends?" His face shaped into a grin as I threw him a bag of popcorn. Abigail put a score up for him.  
"I have a quote. It goes: I have a plan, attack!"  
"Over here! That's Tony to me. Friend and Foe." Tony stuck his thumb up as I threw Steve his first bag of popcorn for the night.  
"It's getting late, and Kennedy has a tonne to get back into the routine of tomorrow. So shall we leave the games where they are? That way we can smash Bruce and Thor when they finally decide to show up." Tony clapped his hands together and escorted the both of us back to the wing we resided in.  
"What'd you think of your first night with having an annoying kid here again?"  
"I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. It's good to have you back."  
"Do you think we could convince Dad to restore some of my memories tomorrow? I swear I'll be fine."  
"As much as I want you to know what you used to know too, you can't swear by what you can’t comprehend. But again, it wouldn't hurt to try."   
I yawned as he spoke, "Okay, goodnight, Paps."  
He kissed me on the forehead before we both headed into our separate rooms, "Goodnight, sweetheart."


End file.
